My Boyfriend is the Heartthrob, and I’m Just a Passerby.

[Is it because you think I’m too pitiful? Is that why…?]

Lin Lin couldn’t help but think as he glanced at the person beside him.

It wasn’t unusual to go out drinking.

After all, for people like them, there were only so many ways to relieve stress.

As an employee of the Control Bureau, constantly dealing with the [Source of Infection].

caused their stress to swell like a balloon. If they didn’t find ways to release it in time, their minds might also go ‘pop.’

So, this was important.

But no matter what—

He still couldn’t imagine himself drinking with the man in sunglasses.

At a street-side food stall.

And it was the man in sunglasses who was paying.

Lin Lin stared at the beer on the table in front of him.

Since the bottle had just been taken out of the fridge by the stall owner, the glass was still frosted, and beads of condensation slid down its surface.

A few wisps of white smoke drifted in front of him.

He looked up and realized the man in sunglasses had lit a cigarette at some point.

“I’m going to report in,” Lin Lin said with a frown, clearly irritated. “If you have anything to say to me, I’m not interested.”

Even if he didn’t go back to the nearest containment center, he could still contact the team leader via his comms device.

In short, he wasn’t going to sit here any longer, waiting for this man’s silence.

Lin Lin got up to leave.

But the man in sunglasses glanced at him and spoke.

“You know, don’t you? That my partner was killed by my own hands.”

“…” Lin Lin froze.

He immediately sat back down.

“What do you mean? Threatening me?” He tried to act tough. “Don’t think this will make me stay. Ha! I’m not scared of you at all.”

“It wasn’t me who killed him.”

“…”

“That guy wasn’t human.”

The amount of information was overwhelming.

Lin Lin was stunned, letting out a confused “Huh?”

“Once a [Source of Infection] gets past the initial three-day chaos period, it enters the [second stage], what we call the latent phase. After that, unless you use specialized methods for precise testing, you won’t be able to identify it as a [Source of Infection].”

Lin Lin responded, “I just passed Level 2 certification. I know this.”

But the man ignored him, continuing to speak on his own.

“My partner—the one you always refer to as the victim—was already a [Source of Infection] before he joined the Infection Control Bureau. But because the Bureau failed to detect it, he used that blind spot to quietly hide his identity all along.”

It wasn’t entirely impossible.

However, most [Source of Infection] avoided the Control Bureau the moment they heard its name.

After all, before becoming what they were, they had been human. They knew full well the consequences of going up against such an official organization. Unless they were overly confident in their own strength, they wouldn’t deliberately approach Control Bureau personnel.

That was why Lin Lin had never heard of something like this before.

“Are you saying you found out it was a [Source of Infection] during a mission and dealt with it because of that?”

Hearing this question, Wei Yangze took a deep drag of his cigarette.

If only the answer were that simple.

But the truth was—

Even at that moment, he hadn’t discovered its true identity.

Four months ago, on that particular night.

Summer had just begun.

Torrential rain poured down, turning roads into muddy rivers.

This area frequently suffered traffic jams because of the weather.

Still, no matter how troublesome it was, they had to keep patrolling amidst the congestion without slacking off.

After all, Level 1 Enforcers were responsible for the safety of the entire area.

They had privately agreed to conduct a circuit patrol between 7:00 and 10:00 every evening, scanning the streets for any signs of newly emerging [Source of Infection].

It was like a daily quest.

But that day, they were unusually lucky, finishing their patrol early.

Wei Yangze lived in a prefabricated cabin arranged by headquarters.

The cabins were convenient for relocation—they could be dismantled anytime, leaving no traces of his identity at hotels or other accommodations.

The cabin had no air conditioning, and it was sweltering.

Yet that night, he slept unusually well.

Until the rain began pouring again in the middle of the night, pounding on the roof and jolting him awake.

Groggily, he opened his eyes and saw a shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed.

He didn’t know how long it had been watching him.

In that instant, he became fully alert.

Without making a sound, he reached for the sunglasses on his bedside table. The next moment, as he turned on the light, what he saw left him stunned.

It was a humanoid figure, covered in mangled flesh, with only scraps of limbs still clinging to its body.

As the light flicked on, the blood-soaked creature let out a strange groaning sound, its mouth spilling out incomprehensible words.

“I’ve been planning this for so long, killing so many people, digging through all the information in the Control Bureau… just to finally find the one special human I’ve been searching for all this time…”

“But I never imagined that in this area, there would actually be [that being]’s presence…”

“I… I dared to disturb Him. Even though I only caught a glimpse of Him from afar, it turned me into this. I barely managed to escape, but He will punish me—They will definitely punish me!”

Rainwater soaked its body, causing white smoke to hiss and rise.

The air filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh and sulfur.

Wei Yangze froze, cold sweat dripping down his back.

Because that voice—it was the same voice as the partner who had smiled at him earlier that day, cheerfully saying, “See you tomorrow.”

Wei Yangze had long passed the Level 1 certification exam.

Unbelievable as it seemed, he should have already realized its identity.

No matter how cautious he tried to be, his movements eventually caught its attention.

As it turned its face toward him, Wei Yangze had already braced himself for combat.

But suddenly, it grabbed his hand and collapsed to its knees with a thud.

“Please, kill me now, will you? I know Level 1 Enforcers have the ability to kill [Source of Infection]. Please, I’m begging you—kill me now! We’re good partners, aren’t we? Please, don’t let Him find me…”

The grotesque humanoid thing pressed its bloody forehead against the back of his hand, pleading like a child.

[Disgusting.]

The blood made his hand sticky and slimy.

The more it cried like a baby, the more repulsive it seemed.

Wei Yangze’s stomach churned with nausea, his head throbbing with sharp pain.

What was this?

The thing’s mention of [Him], the fear that [He] might find it, had turned it into a groveling dog, begging for mercy.

Even after escaping, it was still paranoid and deranged, desperate to be killed by Wei Yangze rather than face [Him] again.

Lin Lin asked nervously, “…And then? Did you kill it?”

“No.”

Wei Yangze shot him a deep glance.

Of course he didn’t.

As a Level 1 Enforcer, his training allowed him to recover from shock quickly. Without wasting a moment, he pressed it urgently for answers:

“Who is that special human you mentioned? And what is [He]? Where exactly in this area are they?”

“If you don’t explain everything clearly, I absolutely won’t grant you an easy death!”

The creature replied, “That human is—”

The next moment.

A splashing sound echoed before him.

But it wasn’t the rain outside the portable cabin.

It came from the hand the creature had been clutching.

Before his eyes, its body suddenly dissolved, as if scalded with boiling water. Skin, muscle tissue—everything melted into a slurry in an instant, dripping onto the floor.

It disappeared, alive.

Leaving only a puddle.

He stared at the ground, speechless.

“…” Lin Lin asked, “So that’s it? It’s over?”

Wei Yangze replied, “No. I submitted a mission report to headquarters, but there was no follow-up feedback.”

Everything remained eerily calm, as if it had all been his imagination.

The rumor spread that he had killed his partner that rainy night.

And since then, this area had been without a Level 1 Enforcer.

“…”

Lin Lin felt his palms grow clammy with sweat.

Almost immediately, he thought of the [Source of Infection 3301] that had died at the aquarium earlier today.

It, too, had died in an extraordinarily unusual way.

Could it be connected to what Wei Yangze had encountered before?

“I’ve thought a lot about it,” Wei Yangze said, snuffing out his cigarette. “Though the pronunciation is the same, I think [He] refers to a deity.”

A deity?

But there were no gods in this world.

Like the eldritch beings in novels, the so-called deities or spirits might sound grand, but none of them existed—just like supernatural powers didn’t exist.

This was likely a creature that had once been human, instinctively borrowing divine terminology to describe its terror.

What kind of [Source of Infection] could overturn its understanding of the world and evoke such overwhelming fear?

The more Lin Lin thought about it, the more unsettling it became. Struggling to understand what kind of existence it could be, he hurriedly said,

“…I see. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to report this to headquarters again. Our newly appointed special-class team leader is renowned for her abilities. She won’t allow such a dangerous area to remain…”

“No.”

“…?”

“I never said this area was dangerous.”

“Huh?”

“On the contrary,” Wei Yangze said slowly, “This is the safest zone, with an incident spread rate of zero.”

In other words, ever since he had been stationed here, no anomalous events had spread.

It was as if—

This place was an eerie haven, untouched by [Source of Infection] or anomalous incidents.

Everyone lived orderly, rational lives, free from the sudden horrors of twisted monsters.

Here, Level 1 Enforcers had become utterly unnecessary.

Wei Yangze’s passive negligence suddenly made sense.

[But this is far too strange.]

[Normal… or perhaps, truly abnormal?]

With that thought, Lin Lin opened his mouth but quickly closed it again.

An absurd idea came to mind—that this sense of normalcy and tranquility was an absolute taboo in this land, one that could never be broken.

He picked up the beer on the table, took a large gulp, and set it back down.

Moments later.

“I’m still going to report this to the captain,” he said.

“Suit yourself,” Wei Yangze replied.

As his words fell, the phones placed on the table suddenly emitted a piercing “beep beep” sound simultaneously.

Lin Lin immediately froze and turned his head to look.

It was a new task notification.

He quickly picked up his phone, unlocked the screen with facial recognition, and was greeted by a glaring alert:

“[Source of Infection] Expansion Warning! (Likelihood: 95%)”

“Preliminary assessment: [Third Stage.]”

The location? A university.

And it looked all too familiar—it was the very place Ye Jishu was.

[Third Stage] was even more dangerous!

It indicated that the [Source of Infection] had reached its final state, fully shedding its human form.

No longer a living body, the entity was already dead.

As such, it was completely unrestrained, capable of creating unique spaces exclusive to itself, akin to something straight out of a manga. It was incredibly troublesome to deal with.

But… they just said there wouldn’t be any…

Lin Lin snapped his head toward Wei Yangze, his face contorted with anger.

“Were you lying to me all along?!”

But to his surprise, Wei Yangze calmly placed his extinguished cigarette on the table and grabbed the car keys resting nearby.

“Let’s go. Let’s check it out now—you’ll understand what I meant.”

Although his tone was steady, Lin Lin noticed that Wei Yangze’s fingers were trembling.

His knuckles were clenched as he gripped the keys.

He was scared.

Even though he was certain that the infection wouldn’t spread, he was still afraid.

But this dread wasn’t directed at the sudden emergence of the Third-Stage [Source of Infection]—it was aimed at the potential appearance of [Him].

–

Ye Jishu opened the window.

From there, he could see the dorm supervisor sitting with his back to him, watching TV.

“Sir,” he called out.

No response.

So, he called again, “Sir.”

The next moment, the supervisor’s body wobbled and collapsed onto the sofa.

“…”

Ye Jishu hesitated.

Slowly, he climbed inside through the window.

Ye Jishu thought irresponsibly: If another student had seen this scene, they’d probably be scared out of their wits.

When he reached the sofa, he checked on the supervisor and saw that his eyes were closed—he seemed to have fallen asleep.

Ye Jishu took the keycard from the table.

Then, he glanced at the dorm supervisor’s computer, which was still on.

So, Ye Jishu walked over, bent down, and moved the mouse.

The computer unlocked automatically.

The luckiest thing happened today: no password was set.

With just a few clicks, he quickly found the file he needed.

To ensure timely communication with the relevant teachers, the dorm supervisor, like the counselors, had a private contact directory. Additionally, for easier management, the school required any teachers staying late on campus to log their presence in the duty roster.

[Chen Wanhui]

[Minghui Building, Office 421, on duty]

It really was in the math department’s teaching building.

Ye Jishu memorized the location.

He glanced at the dorm supervisor again, called out to him, and lightly patted his face.

He didn’t expect it to work, but surprisingly, the supervisor groaned and, after a few seconds, opened his eyes.

“Ah… you…”

He struggled to wake up, looking at Ye Jishu in confusion.

“Sir, a student has fainted on the third floor.”

“Hm? Alright…”

“And, sir, you should also see a doctor.”

Ye Jishu confirmed the supervisor’s condition, seeing that he understood what he said, and then left through the door.

Fortunately, Minghui Building wasn’t far from the dormitory.

Even without the campus shuttle running at night, it wouldn’t take much effort to get there.

As Ye Jishu stepped into the rain, he realized he’d forgotten to bring an umbrella.

He pulled up the hood of his jacket.

He thought about sending a message to Yan Mei but remembered his phone was dead.

[So, it’s not really my fault.]

Still, an inexplicable sense of unease suddenly grew within him.

Ye Jishu made his way toward Minghui Building.

The teaching building loomed ahead, pitch black without any lights.

Looking forward, he could see two concrete columns with a banner stretched between them, bearing the words “Integrity and Purity of Mind.”

The fourth floor.

In the darkness, Ye Jishu ignored everything else and went straight up the stairs.

Professor Chen was indeed in his office.

The moment he reached the fourth floor, it was clear—the only room lit up was the office with its harsh, white fluorescent light.

Ye Jishu didn’t see any sign of his dormmate nearby.

[Has he not arrived yet?]

But the other person had left much earlier—surely he should’ve been here by now.

He glanced around, suspicion creeping into his mind.

The hood of his sweatshirt, now soaking wet, was pulled down, hanging uncomfortably against his back.

Just then, a voice suddenly came from behind him.

“Jishu.”

“…”

It was a very, very familiar voice.

In his memory, only one person ever called him by that name in such a tone.

Ye Jishu froze.

Slowly, he turned around, locking eyes with Yan Mei’s smiling face not far away.

That enchanting face—it was impossible to look away from.

And as the thunder roared in the teaching building’s corridor, Yan Mei’s tall figure was fully revealed, exuding a deadly allure.

The purple light from the stormy sky streamed through the corridor windows, casting distorted shadows and blurring the scene.

Their shadows stretched across the space between them.

“What’s Jishu doing here?”

“…Looking for someone.”

He didn’t directly mention that he was looking for his dormmate.

It felt unnecessary.

After all, Yan Mei probably didn’t know who his dormmate was.

If he explained, it might turn into a hassle.

However—

“I’m here for the same reason,” Yan Mei said, his smile fading as his voice lowered. “What Jishu mentioned during the day kept bothering me, so I made an appointment with the professor to meet as soon as possible. Unexpectedly, the professor agreed and said we could meet tonight.”

The fluorescent-lit office cast light over Ye Jishu’s back.

That office was eerily quiet.

Even straining to listen, there was only dead silence.

“Shall we go in together?”

Yan Mei’s face became expressionless as he continued, “Maybe the person Jishu is secretly looking for so late at night is in there, too.”